


Best Men

by AbelQuartz



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Suits, Tuxedos, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbelQuartz/pseuds/AbelQuartz
Summary: Bismuth and Pearl are tying the knot at last! Steven’s back in town! He’s the best man! And all at once, the feelings are crashing down in the dressing room. Maybe a talk with his dad and a little reunion will do the body good. Maybe it’ll make things worse. Question is, can they get any worse after all?
Relationships: Bismuth/Pearl (Steven Universe), Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Greg Universe & Steven Universe
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Best Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JosephThropp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosephThropp/gifts).



Most humans knew each other for a couple years before engagement. Steven knew he had been lucky to know Connie since he was a preteen, and that all made sense and would make even more sense one day. Pearl and Bismuth, on the other hand, had apparently known each other for hundreds of years, on and off. Steven frowned at himself in the mirror.

It didn’t make sense, or maybe he was just thinking about it too hard. If Gems lived forever, then their honeymoon period would be lifetimes long compared to humans, assuming the ratio was the same. Or, if not, then these beings who operated on scales of hundreds of thousands of years could change, just like humans, practically overnight. When he was younger, he hadn’t thought about how much the Gems had changed, and how strange it was. Even the Diamonds! He hadn’t seen them in a good long while. Pearl had made a point not to invite them to this particular one. They didn’t need to be at every wedding. Still, Steven knew that he couldn’t keep them away from his own.

At least he was used to all this. Getting fit for a second tuxedo was something Steven never thought he’d go through in his life, but that was just part of Greg Universe’s fortune. So much was left over, and it would be there for a long while unless the man changed something about his otherwise frugal spending habits. Still, a good suit was a nice way to go.

There were still a few hours before the wedding itself. Steven leaned on the changing room counter and smiled, closing his eyes. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, missing one therapy session. He had kept up a fantastic track record so far, and the good doctor was understanding. Pearl must have forgotten, or finally moved on from micromanaging Steven’s schedule in her mind, because the teenager knew she would have moved heaven and earth if she knew there was something even slightly inconveniencing her Steven. Maybe Bismuth could have talked her out of it, and maybe not. Either way, mum was the word.

The door opened, and Steven sat up as his father stepped in. Greg shut the door fairly quickly and breathed out. The place was going to be packed in a little while; some alone time would do them good. The boy shook his head and chuckled. 

“Are they getting ready out there?” Steven asked.

“Oh yeah. They’re all up in arms about the tempo of the string quartet,” the man sighed. “Pearl’s in a tizzy. I haven’t seen her this frantic since you left home.”

“Yeesh. That sounds like a wreck.”

“The good news is that Gem makeup is pretty resilient. Seriously, I thought she was being really emotional around the house, but I think now that that’s just how she operates, and all that calm collected warrior stuff is a front. But shoot. She’s happy.”

“I would hope so, considering she’s getting married today,” said Steven.

Greg let loose a sigh as he walked to the back and unzipped his own tuxedo bag. Steven turned back to the mirror and adjusted his bow tie. All the old-fashioned lights around the mirror lit up his face, and he practiced smiling, rubbing a thumb over his chin.

“Did you shave, Steven?”

“Yeah! Actually shaving, too, not just getting rid of the little hairs on my lip.”

“What I wouldn’t have given for skin like yours when I was starting to get my facial hair,” Greg chuckled, unbuttoning his jeans. “You’re gonna want a close shave with how dark you’re coming in. But don’t worry if you get stubble. It’ll just look a little more prominent ‘cause you got the black hair.”

Steven leaned forwards as his father started to change clothes. The man was right. As he moved his chin back and forth and stretched the skin, tiny spots became more prominent, sinking into the paleness of his skin like veins or stalks. He had to resist the urge to get a pair of tweezers and get everything out until he had skin like he was fourteen again. If he focused, it might be possible to shapeshift them all into his body, but that wouldn’t hold for long and wouldn’t look good. It had been a while since he had shapeshifted. 

Doing that in front of his dad wouldn’t go over well either. He had to respect the man’s own history with magic in their family. Steven sniffed and waited for the go-ahead. 

“Why a roller rink of all places,” Greg said over the sound of putting on trousers. “You’d think they would want to be back at the Temple like Garnet. The beach is a great venue!”

“I think it was personal to Bismuth. Pearl loved the idea, too, you know how she can get. Excited over the little things. They have a lot of good memories and friends here.”

“And a certain Steven who’s the best man! Best boy, anyway, until next year.”

“Yeah. And that’s working out great.”

“You don’t sound as excited. Nervous?”

“No, it’s not that,” Steven sighed. 

The boy turned around in his chair. Greg had taken a seat as he bent over to tie his black dress shoes, shining in twelve different directions under the rink’s backroom lights. He raised an eyebrow at his son before grunting and tightening up the laces. Steven clenched and unclenched his fists a subtle grumble.

“Maybe Pearl doesn’t know what a best man does, but I’m supposed to be doing all the outfit matching, and then there were the invitations, and the catering, and the music, and I’m ready to jump in and help but every time I tried she said that someone had already taken care of it!” he said. “I know it’s gonna be great to stand up there and then give a speech after, and it’ll be great to see everyone again for the ceremony and reception, but I just don’t feel helpful, dad.”

Greg turned his head down with an uncomfortable clearing of the throat. What was that supposed to mean? Steven leaned back in the chair as the man finished lacing up and rocked his feet on the multicolored carpet patterns.

“Steven, I think that Pearl really wants you to be part of this, because it’s an important part of her life, and she wants to share it with you. But she also doesn’t want to put any more stress on you to make this happen.”

“I just want to help out a little! It feels like she’s pushing me away.”

“If she was pushing you away, she wouldn’t have called you literally as soon as she could get her breath back to ask you to be the best man.”

“I know it’s not right, but it’s what I feel.”

Greg stood up while looking down at his son. There was that face again, where the man’s eyebrows squirmed like caterpillars, where his mouth was twisted in a meager frown, the well of advice all dried up. To his credit, Steven couldn’t think of any good responses if he were his dad, either. Nobody was going to tell anyone around here that their feelings were wrong. The intentions had been laid out, the wound had been covered, and there was nothing more to say about going forward that hadn’t been said already. Greg zipped up his trousers and pulled on the belt. Steven watched him tug down a couple loops.

“Have you, um,” he mumbled, “have you lost weight, dad?”

“I guess so. Darn, I guess the waistline’s gonna be more wrinkly.”

“Have you finally picked up a gym membership? Trying some rich person diet?”

“You know, it’s weird, I don’t feel like I’ve been doing anything different! Appetite’s been more scattered, but you know I’m still a pizza lover.”

On the road, Steven had made a point to send back pictures of all the different pizzas he had seen across the nation. Dessert pizzas were always a big hit, drizzled in white chocolate with different kinds of cookie crumbles and crust on top. The biggest slice he had found so far had been from, surprisingly, a small town in Texoma on the outskirts of a major metropolis, serving cheese slices as long as Steven’s forearm from crust to cut. Steven had tried toppings like cactus greens, wild mushrooms, alligator, seaweed, and more. Each time, he had sent a picture to his father with details about price, taste, and atmosphere. All the suggestions for him to make a blog were brushed off gently. Now wasn’t the time to put himself out into the world like that. Private texts and little messages were enough to keep him going.

At any point, he knew he could call his father and have him meet for a dinner break anywhere in the country, only a flight away. If Andy was busy, a commercial flight would be easy to book, and they could take time out for a meal together. So far, this was the first time they had seen each other in the flesh for a while.

“Scoot over, kiddo.”

Steven obliged as his father brought his chair over. The man grunted and grimaced with exertion as he sat down once again in front of the mirror. Side by side, Steven watched both their faces. He had the same eyes as his father here, wide and blank and with a natural look of uncertain curiosity. Greg was starting to get lines underneath his eyes, wrinkles like anyone his age. He still looked leagues better than anyone Steven knew, but that was bias talking. He watched while his dad straightened up and adjusted the tie. 

“You know, if I was more vain, or if I really cared about what the folks in town thought, I’d start dyeing my hair,” he muttered.

“Really? You know, I’m surprised you didn’t once you moved out. Rockstars always have crazy highlights and stuff.”

“I stuck with length. Do you have any idea how hard it is to dye hair that goes past your butt? I’d rather have spent that money on gas and food. Wasn’t a millionaire back then, you know!”

The boy giggled and imagined his father with a rainbow mane up on stage, waving it wildly as he rocked out to a crowd of up to a dozen adoring fans. As he turned back to the mirror, his smile became forced. Nobody else had heard about his hair-dyeing fantasies he had had as a child. The image of Rose Quartz was the last time he had thought about it, even while visiting punk clubs and underground derbies with modern rockers and outcasts, where he had seen everything from a sunset fade to a glow-in-the-dark mohawk. Length had been fair enough for the Universes. Steven had only gotten one cut while he was out, just a trim after one of his low points. It had felt good to clean up a little, with a shower and clean clothes after he had lost track of time without them.

His father’s hair was in fact starting to show his age. Steven looked at the chestnut-brown hair and saw the streaks of darker gray hiding in there. The stripes congregated around the edge of his beard as well. In a few years, if this was the rate of growth, the man would be salt-and-pepper material. 

Greg looked at him in the mirror as he smoothed out his dress shirt.

“You alright, Steve-o?”

“Hm? Yeah! Yeah. Just thinking about things.”

He had never imagined what his father would look like with gray hair. Before he could form real memories, he knew his father had had a little bit on top, a few tufts that had receded to leave the magnificent waves off the side and back. After the Bluebird incident, the man had kept his hair styled as much as he could, and that change was hard to stomach as well, no matter how well-adjusted Greg had appeared to be. Without dye, the color was a permanent change, and a permanent marker of age. Steven had been staring with that thought in mind, and now that it was stuck, he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror.

One of the lightbulbs flickered for just a moment before returning to full brightness. Steven leaned forwards on the dressing room table and felt his jacket tighten around his elbows. His father’s hand came up to rest on his shoulder.

“You’ve got that look again,” Greg said. “This is a private space, Steven. If you’ve got something you need to say, I’m here. Alright?”

The first thought: anger — or not so much the anger as a snapping reaction, a wild dog growling when being pet by a stranger. That wasn’t what Steven wanted to feel and it wasn’t what his father deserved. It hadn’t been until his therapist had started pushing that Steven realized how much he hated using anger to defend himself. Anti-confrontation, well, he knew about that from all the times he had pushed it down. But there was something more cathartic in anger, unhealthily righteous, and it made him shudder to imagine feeling that way naturally against the people he loved. It would hurt them, and it would make them want to help him even more. Why did eliciting sympathy feel bad, too? These conversations were never easy, and sometimes he wondered how the doctor was able to handle him. How was his  _ family _ able to all these years?

“Dad?”

“Mhm?”

“How come… I feel that when I was a kid, I never really saw you angry. But then as I get older, I feel more and more inside like I’m an angry person. Like that’s who I am. I don’t want to be like that, dad. I don’t know where it comes from. I never used to get that way, did I?”

Greg was quiet for a moment as he rubbed Steven’s shoulder. The man kept his hand as a gentle anchor, straightening up in the chair.

“Well, that’s part of existing, Steven. Anger happens naturally. You’re supposed to be angry when things happen that you think aren’t supposed to. Being mad, being sad, being lonely, that’s just part of being human. Everyone gets angry some of the time.”

“But you never did!” Steven said. “I mean, I remember sometimes the Gems got kinda peeved, but that wouldn’t have made me like that—”

“Nobody  _ made _ you feel that way. You have to get out of that mindset. Why do you feel that you… Steven, do you think you weren’t supposed to be mad because the people around you didn’t get mad?”

He didn’t say anything. Greg let out a breath and finally let go of his son’s shoulder. Before he could pull away, the boy reached over instinctively and grabbed at his father’s wrist. Greg raised his eyebrows in surprise, but Steven just turned and held on, looking down as he tried to find the words for his memories. Just like he feared when he got older, he couldn’t focus on the specifics anymore, not without some haze obfuscating the true nature of what he saw. When he was a preteen, he had forgotten everything about being a baby. Now that he was almost a bona-fide adult, Beach City was turning into a shrouded world. Steven opened his mouth to answer, but couldn’t find a single word.

“Hoo boy. Yeah, that’s the hardest part about all this, isn’t it,” Greg murmured. “You know, I remember the first time I had to take you away, when you punched the dashboard. You remember that?”

“When Jasper came to Earth. Yeah, I think I do. Oh man, I remember the airbag, but — I guess I did punch the van, didn’t I.”

“The only thing I had ever seen you hit in your life was a baseball, but you know what? It made sense, and I never remembered thinking how strange that might have been for you. And at the time, you didn’t freak out like it was something new. You’d been annoyed before, miffed, whatever! Hm. Maybe it’s not the mad part.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you got mad, a little bit, when I grounded you from space flight, right? But you didn’t hit anything, you didn’t stomp around and feel...violent. Steven, I don’t think you’re worried about being mad.”

He was right. For a man who wasn’t a doctor or a graduate or even a true professional, Greg Universe knew how to hit the nail on the head. What an apt turn of phrase, considering what Steven was reconciling at the moment. The dream memory on the jungle moon had ended with a punch that had shattered Stevonnie into wakefulness. The undersea Pearl repair facility was broken in no small part due to the cracks that he had left on the ground from his outburst. Jasper, who might be showing up to this wedding, had been broken almost beyond repair. And he didn’t remember anything about his most violent escapade, the destruction of the house, the utter despair of—

Before he could respond or protest, Greg had grabbed him. Both the man’s hands were released and were forced underneath Steven’s armpits, and the teenager was hoisted out of his chair. 

“H-hey! Dad!”

His father only grunted as he pulled Steven in for a tight hug, standing with all his might. Steven held on, wrapping his arms around the man if only to steady himself and keep the weight off of Greg entirely. The man’s arms were strong, but as they stood in awkward silence, his son could feel the tension of the muscles doing their best. Steven weighed considerably more than he did when he was a child, he knew. He tried to break the hug, but Greg’s grip was tight. It would be rude bordering on dangerous to use his strength to get out of this one.

“Dad, what are you doing?”

“Getting you out of that place. I saw where you were going. I don’t want you to be there, Steven. I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I-I’m not alone. You’re right here. Holding me.”

A half-second of silence later, Steven felt both their bodies bounce with his father’s contained sob. He stared over his father’s shoulder towards the door of the dressing room. Behind the sealed walls, there were the vague sounds of laughter, people moving electronic equipment, Gems in conversation. This little cave was a private space of sorts, for actors and dancers who needed a place to think and tend to bruised legs and egos. It was quiet. Steven felt a sour taste in his mouth as his father’s grip tightened.

They had all seen each other cry before. They had practically grown up crying. Every time, there was someone else to see them, someone they could run into or who could help them out with whatever issue was on the mind today. It felt strange to Steven to be in a place where he was the only one witnessing Greg breaking down. Of course he wanted to help his dad, but he had no idea how.

“Dad, what’s wrong?” he said softly. “I… It’s, um, okay, you can talk to me, too.”

“I thought that when you left, that I’d stop feeling this way. That I wouldn’t be scared for you. I wish I could tell you what it’s like to be a parent. I’m terrified.”

“You don’t have to worry about me like that. I can take care of myself.”

The sniffle turned into a half-laugh, muted by phlegm and roused by some hidden knowledge only Greg understood. He didn’t let go.

“Oh, Steven, you said that same thing when you were potty-training, and then when you dressed yourself, and then when you wanted to learn how to use the microwave,” the man sighed, “and every time I trusted you, even when things went wrong. Because stuff always goes wrong, that’s part of growing up. You got that independent spirit. Between me and your mom, you were almost destined to rebel. Heh, kind of another paradox, right?”

But he wasn’t rebelling. Was he? Steven grimaced as he relaxed his grip on his father, and the man allowed him some space, but held on to Steven’s arms as the two Universes eased off their various stressors. The boy looked up to see the wrinkles catching his father’s tears, sliding down across his mouth and into his beard, into his smile. 

It was the terrible truth that he had to break away to be his own person, that he had to cast off the mold to discover what shape he was. All freedom came with breaking chains, though, right? And yet here he was again, with his father holding on to him, and he didn’t know what to say. Steven allowed himself to be held, and he had to admit, it had been a while since he had been comforted like that. Allowing that kind of closeness was just one step closer, something nice, an indulgence away from the so-called independent spirit. It hurt to be alone. Maybe it was as natural as the anger or the fear, but it still hurt.

“What’s so terrifying about that, then?” he chuckled, shrugging vaguely. “I mean, if you knew I was gonna rise up and do...whatever.”

“Steven, as freeing as it was, I still hurt myself and made really bad choices. When I think about you doing the same things, all I can see is how they’d lead to you getting hurt. That’s what a dad’s gotta do. You’re not a baby, but you’re still, well, my baby.”

“Dad, c’mon!”

“I’m serious! It makes no sense!” Greg lifted a finger to wipe a tear away from his eyes. “But the fact remains that I care about you more than anyone else on the planet. Heck, on or off the planet! And that means when you get hurt, I feel hurt. When you get angry, I want to make it better. And there’s a special part of being a dad that makes everything, like, times a thousand!”

Was that how Mr. Demayo felt when his son left home, then? Steven looked at the smiling man in front of him and imagined the face of the stranger who hadn’t opened the letters, who wouldn’t have recognized the face of the young man with the wild mane on the cover of whatever musical magazine of the month. He thought of Marty, who wasn’t around to see his son travel to Europe on an underground musical tour. Both those men were out there, and they would call Greg a liar, a simpleton, a bleeding heart. There it was, the anger again, but anger in love, as perhaps all anger was.

Steven bit his lip, then pulled out his hands to hug his dad on his own terms. Greg grunted as the wind was knocked out of him in surprise, but Steven felt the hands slowly return again. They were almost the same height now. Greg was surprisingly tall, taller than Steven had remembered, considering that he had never caught up as a teenager. Now that they were getting there, it was bittersweet, knees bumping against knees, two barrel chests in fancy tuxedos, shoulders jostling each other at the same height.

“I love you too, dad,” he mumbled.

“I’ll love you forever, Schtuball. Always, always and forever. Okay?”

“And, um, thank you.”

“Heh, what fer?”

He didn’t want to mirror the man, but as he pulled back, he couldn’t help but feel the tears squeezed out, and he wiped them away the same way, careful not to get any salt on his tuxedo. The boy shook his head in mild bewilderment, amused at the strangeness of what they went through time and time again.

“I still...don’t like feeling mad, or like hurting people, and — and I know that it might happen later, and I don’t like that either. But I guess, here and now, I needed you,” Steven said. “So thanks for being a good dad, I guess.”

“I’ll put that on my ‘dad performance review’ for the year!” Greg chuckled, before reaching up to smooth out the boy’s collar. “You’re welcome, Steven. All part of being a dad.”

There was a small knock on the door, and both Universes turned to see Connie push it open, stepping in as the sound of what was hopefully not construction work echoed in. It was the first time Steven had actually seen Connie after she had gotten all dressed up, and his stomach did a small flip. The girl smiled at him, as if she knew exactly what was going on inside his body.

Someone had done her hair up, probably a Gem taking part in the human-Homeschool cross-cultural correspondence course. Connie was growing it out again, and her naturally round hair was curled in perfect black waves, all tucked over her left shoulder. Her dress had one strap over her shoulder and one left bare, showing off the muscles in her right arm from the tennis and fencing and all the side athletics she had picked up at the end of her school career. The deep turquoise fabric shone over her body, catching the light as she put her weight on one side and raised an eyebrow at Steven. 

“I was going to ask how I look, but...”

Greg snickered as Steven untangled himself and moved past his father to stand in front of Connie, filled with expectation and unsure what to say. She watched as he opened his mouth and his tongue knotted itself with all the compliments that couldn’t shine a light to her entrance. He knew he was burning as soon as the girl stepped forward and took his hands, raising her mouth to kiss him on the cheek.

“You shaved!” Connie said. 

“Y-yeah! Yeah. Do you like it? Should I grow out a beard?”

“Mm, no, too patchy for now. I like your cheeks when I can ruffle them and not rough up my palms.”

Steven let the laugh come naturally, even though he was slightly disappointed. But, to prove her point, Connie reached up and ran a thumb under his chin. Her touch was enough to distract him from everything, just for a moment, just enough so that his thoughts were jumbled in a completely different way. She stepped around him and waved her fingers at Greg, who bowed with a smirk.

“Hey, Mr. Universe!” she said. “They sent me to check up on you two. Pearl’s all worked up and I can only give her so much moral support. She might need a pep talk from her best man.”

“Oh boy. Well, I guess I should get out there, huh?”

“Looks like it’s about time that everyone’s starting to pick up the pace,” Greg said, adjusting his tie. “I think I’ll finish checking on that quartet. Honestly, Connie, you should see some of these Gems on the violin. Gonna give you a run for your money some day!”

“As long as they don’t break tempo. Besides, I’m just here as a guest today! Pearl wanted me to work security, but, well, there’s no need for that. I think she just thought I’d look good with a sword.”

“To be fair, you do look really, really good with a sword,” Steven said.

“As you do with a shield, hm? But since I can’t summon that on command, I’ll stick with summoning you.”

Greg looked away as Connie prodded a single finger in the flustered boy’s chest. Steven could only open his mouth and let out a little cough before his girlfriend laughed and hugged him close. It was a day of celebration, not teasing, not flustering, for a special pair of Gems that wanted to join their union. Once he knew he was being teased, it was easy to let go. Steven simply hugged Connie tight and let his eyes close as he imagined what it would be like in the future.

They could do a small wedding, just families and Gems, something in the woods, maybe, or somewhere on an alien planet. Who said it had to be on Earth? Maybe they could be on an island surrounded by the deepest oceans imaginable, with creatures flying through the air that had never been seen by any other humans. Maybe they could make a garden on another moon, Steven’s garden, grown with plants that he could tend to. He imagined the Gems shedding tears gently, Mr. and Mrs. Maheswaran dabbing at their eyes from the sidelines, the Diamonds in the atmosphere bawling their eyes out. He could imagine it all so clearly. All the colors ran together in his mind, but Connie was always there in front of him, just like she was now.

And as he released Connie from the hug and turned back, he could see his father there, too, just as he was, with all the wrinkles and the gray hair and the finest suit money could buy. In the dressing room here, he didn’t need to imagine. Greg nodded to him softly, in pride, in love. For all the strangeness of his family, Steven thought, he was so fortunate to have that man in his life, and humanity was the most important thing they shared. Someday, perhaps, he could show Greg Universe what it meant to be a dad himself. Another quality, another love, through generations.

Someday. Steven turned back to Connie. She pulled on his sleeve with both hands, urging him forward, out the dressing room and into the rink. Everyone was so close. The sounds of tuning instruments started to echo from the speakers around them.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Ready.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading, and for helping support me during all these car shenanigans... Check the original work on Tumblr for more info, and special thanks to JT <3


End file.
